


I want to be a part of it

by lissaline



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Depression, F/M, Hiking, Suicidal Thoughts, Unreliable Narrator, matt is a sad boi, negative self-talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 00:52:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17070407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lissaline/pseuds/lissaline
Summary: Matt and Elektra go on a day trip.





	I want to be a part of it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ashling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashling/gifts).



> Merry secret santa Ashling! I'm sorry this is so morose oh my goodness, why am I incapable of writing happy things? Thank you for the beautiful prompt I also love Matt/Elektra!! I hope this is the kind of thing you were looking for :) Also I'm sorry those tags and that summary sound so glib, they're not intentionally glib I promise.

Matt Murdock isn’t just a New Yorker, he’s a _New Yorker_. He lives and breathes – and on several occasions has nearly stopped breathing – for this hot, smelly, crowded, dumpster fire of a city.

Foggy likes to tease him about how he’s never been further south than 34th Street, and Matt smiles a self-deprecating smile and shrugs because it’s easier that way, and mostly true.

The thing is, when they were at Columbia Foggy used to go home a lot on the weekends. He had a big, tight-knit family, and a mother who cooked and sent him home with Tupperwares of casserole to put in the minifridge. He invited Matt every time without fail, and whenever Matt did tag along, the Nelsons were nothing but warm and welcoming. Matt was even used to getting hugged by Foggy’s mom now, although the first time it happened, he had stiffened up and almost flinched away like a freak. But no matter how often Foggy denied it, he knew he was essentially an imposition on their family time, so he made a point of never accepting the invitation more than three times in a row.

This particular weekend, he couldn’t wait for Foggy to leave. He pasted a smile on his face and numbly reassured him over and over again that he was fine, he needed to get some studying done, you go have fun, say hi to Candy for me, until finally the door closed behind Foggy’s back, and he sank onto his bed.

He had felt this coming on for a while now, all the happiness and energy slowly leaching from his body until lifting his head off his pillow or getting in the shower felt like insurmountable tasks. Matt hated Foggy to see him like this. He was always so… _understanding_ , trying to comfort Matt, bringing him food and offering to watch movies with him. He didn’t see these spells for what they were: weakness. Proof that Matt was lazy, and pathetic, and everything Stick said he was.

He would get over it like he always did. He would go back to denying all these things he knew were true about himself in order to get through the day. All he needed was this one weekend to lie in bed, with no one to judge him but himself. That’s all he needed, and then he would be fine.

 _You’re already fine. Just get out of bed. Just get out of bed. Just do it_.

Matt was picking at his bedspread, wanting desperately to sleep but convinced he didn’t deserve it, when he heard a knock at the door. He distantly registered surprise at the fact that he hadn’t noticed someone approaching before then. He must have been really out of it.

Now that he was concentrating, he could smell that distinctive perfume. Subtle and earthy, and somehow both demure and obviously expensive. He could hear thin gold bangles tinkle against each other as she knocked on the door again. He hadn’t been seeing Elektra long at that point, but every minute he had spent with her had been…incredible. She had a way of making him feel small, but powerful at the same time. And now that she knew his secret, it was like an entire world of possibilities had opened up. Like Matt was suddenly allowed to have all the things that he had long ago accepted weren’t for him.

At least, that’s how he felt when he wasn’t practically comatose. Now, his stomach flipped over and he realized that he could not allow Elektra to see him like this. He flinched as he heard a third knock on the door. If he didn’t answer she would go away eventually. He could tell her that he had gone home with Foggy if she asked about it later.

“Matthew,” her lilting voice floated through the door. He loved the way his name sounded in her mouth, but just then it made him want to simultaneously scream and throw up. “I know you’re in there. Your roommate with the ridiculous name told me you were here for the weekend.”

Damn it, Foggy.

With much more effort than it should have taken, Matt pushed his comforter off him and stood up, walking in a sort of daze to open the door. He knew he should try to make himself more presentable before Elektra saw him, but he was finding it hard to think straight. It was as though he was experiencing everything through a thick layer of cotton, and nothing seemed quite real.

“Well you look like shit.” Elektra’s musical voice managed to make curse words sound like poetry.

“Yeah,” Matt was distantly surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded. “I think it’s the flu or something. I – sorry.” he ended pathetically, hating that he was apologizing but feeling a desperate need to.

But Elektra was already pushing past him through his door. He could hear her hair shifting against her shoulders as she took in the state of the room. Her heart sped up a little, but her voice was even when she said, “Take a shower, Matthew, you stink. And then we are getting out of here.”

“I don’t – I don’t want to get you sick,” Matt said, searching frantically for an excuse.

“I don’t believe what you have is catching.” Elektra threw over her shoulder from where it sounded like she was picking up garbage from the floor and tossing it in the bin. Matt knew he should be humiliated at that, her cleaning up after him, but he only managed to muster up a vague sense of shame.

Matt did feel slightly better after a shower. He hadn’t even noticed how much he smelled, but now that he was clean his head was much clearer, he felt more alive.

Elektra was sitting primly on the edge of his newly made bed when he came back. She stood up when he entered and glided over to him, looping her arms around his neck and giving him a kiss on the cheek, something she had never done before. The casual tenderness of it made him blush.

“Mm. That’s better. Now. Where would you like to go?”

“I – what?”

“ _Go,_ Matthew. We’re getting out of the city.”

“What? No, I can’t.”

“And why is that?”

Matt searched, but found he couldn’t come up with a good reason that wasn’t, I need to lie in bed and try to not kill myself.

“I guess – well, alright.”

“Good boy. I know the perfect place.”

Based on past interactions, Matt half expected Elektra to have a private jet stashed away somewhere, ready to whisk him away to Paris. Instead, they ended up in her Porsche, driving out of the city with the top down. It was just this side of overwhelming, the noises and smells and wind rushing past him so quickly it was almost painful. Overwhelming but not wholly unpleasant, a sensation he was beginning to associate with Elektra.

A ridiculous wave of guilt washed over him as they got further and further from the distinctive sounds and smells of the city. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was disappointing someone, whether that was Stick or his father he couldn’t say. But then Elektra’s cool hand brushed against the back of his neck and squeezed gently before returning to the steering wheel, and he felt a little better.

The first thing Matt noticed when Elektra parked the car was the silence. It was almost oppressive, it pressed against his ear drums. Next were the smells. Some were familiar. He could still smell the breath and sweat and mingled soap of groups of people, he could smell trash and food and pavement. But everything was more dispersed, filtered through things like fresh soil, and moss, and pine trees. As he adjusted, he started to hear the sound of hundreds of birds chirping. He thought in the distance he could hear rushing water.

“What do you think?” Elektra’s voice so close to him made him jump a little.

“Where are we?”

“It’s only the Catskills. Don’t worry, I don’t think New York will revoke your membership card.”

They only passed a couple of people as they walk through the forest. Matt knew the Catskills weren’t exactly the wilderness, and the fact that they weren’t encountering herds of tourists meant Elektra knew a place that was more secluded, more exclusive. The sound behaved so differently here. It bounced of hundreds of trees, wrapped itself around their trunks and got distorted in their leaves. It was distracting, and Matt kept finding himself getting lost in it. He would have felt guilty if not for the fact that Elektra didn’t seem to want to talk either. She just slipped her hand into his and kept it there, a steady pressure, as they walked along soft, fragrant ground.

Eventually they arrived at a place where the rushing water sounded like distant thunder, and the trees thinned, allowing the sound to spread out more.

Elektra let go of his hand and rifled through her bag for a moment, before pulling out something large and soft.

“Sit.” She said, her voice brooking no argument.

He sat, and the blanket she had laid down was so thick and luxurious feeling that he was shocked she was willing to put it on the ground.

Elektra pressed a warm thermos of coffee into his hand.

Things had really gone too far at that point, and Matt couldn’t help but let out a bewildered laugh.

“Who the hell are you and what have you done with Elektra?”

“Shut up,” she said, but he could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m a multifaceted woman.”

They sat in silence for a long time, sipping their coffee, listening and watching the scene unfold around them. At some point Elektra leaned into Matt, twining her arm through his.

She pressed another one of those chaste kisses into his neck.

“How’s your flu?” She murmured.

“It’s – a little better.” He said, realizing as he said it that it was true. Sitting here with her, not saying anything, not doing anything but being next to her, it was the best he had felt in a long time. He knew that his bed was still there waiting for him, and nothing would really change, but right then he felt almost content.

“Why are you doing all this? I don’t –” he stopped himself before he could say what he was thinking, because he knew it made him sound pathetic and needy. _I don’t deserve this_.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Matthew,” Elektra said brusquely, but she leaned into him a little harder and rested her head against his shoulder.

Two months later, Elektra drove him out of Manhattan again, but this time it was to a stranger’s house. They drank expensive liquor, talked about their future, and Elektra laughed as Matt nearly murdered a man with his bare hands.

Matt made a point of never thinking about either of those days. He didn’t leave New York again.


End file.
